I came down the stairs to living room and found that blissfully that the flat was empty. Sherlock and Irene must have gone out. Probably to dinner. I thought with a roll of my eyes. I supposed that I should feel grateful they weren't there. That way I could avoid the inquisition from Sherlock and the knowing glances from Irene. That on top of the fact Sherlock would have done everything to prevent me from going and I couldn't do that to Molly.

I had just been so busy since our last date that I just couldn't fit it into my schedule other than the odd lunch date or two when we miraculously had the same shift. So I had decided come hell or high water I was going to something special for Valentine's Day. I looked up a nice restaurant for a candle lit dinner and then a nice romantic stroll along the banks of the Thames.

I told Molly to be ready at six and picked up a nice wine on my way to her flat. As I rode the elevator to her flat I tugged nervously on my cuffs the bottle tucked up my arm. I cleared my voice a couple times hoping that my voice didn't crack.

I knocked on the her door and tapped my foot nervously. I was bringing out all my nervous ticked. I knew things were bad when a finger nail made it to my mouth. I quickly shoved my hand in my pocket. When she opened the door, he was stunned. She was wearing a nice red dress that fell off her shoulders but unlike the Christmas dress that had shocked everyone, this dress seemed more… well Molly.

"Um… wow!" I said as I echoed Greg's sentiment on the first dress. Molly blushed.

"Thanks, you look nice too." She opened the door wider to me in and I handed her the bottle of wine.

"I thought we'd have a glass or two before dinner." I explained as she looked surprised at the gesture.

"Ooh, that's lovely. Let me go and get some glasses." She went to the kitchen and returned as promised with two wine glasses just as I popped the cork.

"Oh!" Molly jumped and I rushed over to pour the wine into the glasses.

"To us!" I toasted and Molly murmured her agreement and took a sip. She nodded appreciatively.

"This is good." She said.

"Thanks," I beamed. Score one. She took another sip and said, "Mmm… I don't think I should drink too much more this. It's starting to go straight to my head." I took another sip of my drink and heartily agreed. I grabbed her glass and set both our drinks on the coffee table.

"Yes, tipsy isn't what we are going for tonight." I said, straightening back up. Molly giggled.

"I take you don't drink much," she said between her giggles.

I wiped my hands on the side of my pants and stuck my hands in my pockets. "Not really no. A disposition toward alcoholism does that to a mate." I ducked my head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's alright. It got my dad and it's got its claws in my sister, Harry. Besides alcohol makes my hands shake and for a surgeon that isn't a good thing."

"I can imagine. I always wondered why you became an army doctor. It seems almost contradictory."

"The taking lives and saving them?" I asked and she nodded. "Adrenaline junky. Pure and simple."

She frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand."

"I crave danger and excitement. First it was playing rugby at school and then it was the army and now it's Sherlock." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Wow. I wondered how you could stick with him longer than nearly anyone I know but that pretty much answers everything." Her laughter filled the room. "I bet you get plenty of medical practice too!"

"It's never dull. Despite what he thinks." Molly laughed again.

"We should probably getting heading soon, if we're going to make it there by seven." Molly said as she looked up at the wall clock. I nodded and grabbed our coats. I helped her into hers and then led the way to the elevators. We made our way to the street where I hailed a cab.

We passed the time talking and chatting. Well… I did most of the talking really. I told her stories about Sherlock and my adventures.

"Not all of them make it to the blog." I admitted.

"Why not?" She was clearly interested.

"Some of our cases our from Mycroft and the Official Secret's Act prevents me from talking about it."

Molly nodded, "Like the Irene Adler case." Just then we pulled up to the restaurant and I helped her out of the cab. I paid the driver and led her inside.

"Very like. I'm still not happy about that one." I didn't like that she had played Sherlock for a fool and I was pretty sure she still was. But I couldn't tell him that. Whether he wanted to believe it or not he was attracted to her. Which it was for her body or her intellect it didn't matter. He admired her.

I walked up to the maitre d' and said, "Dinner for two for Watson at 7pm." The man nodded and led us to our table. Once we were settled in I continued.

"Some times it's more about the client and respecting their privacy. Something that would harm more than just themselves if it ever came out. I'll admit there have been times we let a criminal go once we learned the reason for it or if by letting them go a greater justice is served. Just don't tell Lestrade I said that." I winked at her.

"Oh wow. No of course not. And I can see why it would need to be kept off the blog. Any other reason?"

"The cases Sherlock can't solve." I thought back to some of those and it still ached.

Molly laughed. "You put up one of those though yeah?" She asked when she saw my sober expression.

Just then the waiter arrived and we gave him our order once he left I resumed.

"Well, yes. But that's because I thought it'd help if people saw it maybe they could come up with theories on how to solve it. It didn't turn out well. Plus, it was an interesting case most aren't interesting, they're tragic."

"Because if Sherlock can't solve them no one can?" I nodded and then cocked my head to the side.

"Well… almost."

Molly furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Mycroft probably could." Her expression cleared. "Well, you've met him. I've seen him correct Sherlock's deductions without looking up from his phone."

"He doesn't seem the like the sort that would deign to care to be honest." Molly asserted.

I sighed. "No, he's not. He's a bigger git than Sherlock and I didn't think that could be possible."

"I got that impression, yeah." Molly agreed.

Our food arrived sometime later and we laughed and chatted about less serious things. When our plates were taken away we got a chocolate cake to share.

Then I took her for the stroll along the Thames. We walked hand and hand, laughing and smiling. Our lips would meet and sparks would fly. It was the most wonderful night but like all good things, they must end. I took her home and kissed her good night on her doorstep.

When I got home I found that Sherlock was there but Irene wasn't it. I took one look at him and knew what had happened. She had destroyed his faith in woman-kind. He was playing the most melancholy song I had ever heard and after my wonderful night with Molly my heart broke at the sight of him.

"She's gone for good then?" I asked as I hung up my coat.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry Sherlock."

He stopped abruptly and turned around to face me. "I'm not. She was working with Moriarty."

My eyebrows shot up. "Well that explains more than it doesn't." He scoffed and I sighed. I went to the kitchen and made him a cup of coffee and brought it out to him.

"Dinner with Molly on Valentine's Day? You must be serious, John."

I laughed. "I don't know yet. She's a good girl. We've only kissed a few times and this is only our second date but things appear to be going well."

Sherlock smiled. I wasn't sure what to make of that. He went back to playing but it was more joyful and romantic. Clearly he had higher hopes for us than I did. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, if I was honest. What if she found someone else, hell what if I did? It would destroy Sherlock and he would kill me. I would dead and no one would be able to solve the case. I sighed.

I would just have to take it one step at a time